I: "A TERRIBLE VICTORY PARTY"
A/N: So this is an idea I sprouted after re-reading the Heroes of Olympus series in a month. With it fresh in my mind, I jotted it down, and have been working on it ever since. Anyways, I'm psyched to make this a series. ( I have written PJO fanfictions before, just be glad my 5th grade stories have since been deleted. )
extra note; For those of you who are reading my story "Phone Call", Chapter 5 is very close to being completed. I just have to tweak it a bit. Perhaps add a cliffhanger.
DISCLAIMER. I did not write or claim to have written the Percy Jackson / Heroes of Olympus series. That was all Uncle Rick. This is simply a work of fiction to which I make no profit. I do own the original characters in this story.
- Except the name Cast for Percy and Annabeth's oldest child, to which I swiped that from werealcatfishtumblr. They had some drawings about future PJO kids, and I couldn't think of a better name myself for a child named after Luke. Anyways, credit to them on that and check out their tumblr if you like.
Percy Jackson remembered winning the Titan War.
He remembered feeling weightless. Astonished. Unsure if he was in the real world and not just experiencing another vivid demigod dream. (Which would be impossible considering 100% of the time demigod dreams didn't leave you victorious.) They'd won. The war was over. The war which had been looming ever since he was twelve years old. The fear that had continually built up, smothered by his memories of good times at camp with friends. He remembered his relief. The prophecy had ended. Everything was going to be alright.
Percy remembered standing in front of the gods at Mount Olympus. Being offered eternal life. His head was still spinning. Heart aching from the lost lives. Body numb and buzzing with energy, but on the verge of collapse at the same time. Still, his voice had sounded more confident, more sure, then it ever had, when he declined. Zeus help him, what had he been thinking?
The next couple months were a blur of memory loss and Tartarus. He tried not to dwell on specifics. Mulling it over now, he realized he had hard proof that the fates despised him as much as Gaea herself.
Luckily they managed to weave their way out of that disaster. (No pun intended, Annabeth.) Unluckily that accompanied its own casualties. Leo...no. He didn't want to think about that either.
They'd won again. Reclaimed a rightful victory, just like the Titan War. Yet it felt so…wrong this time. He didn't feel weightless. He didn't feel relieved. He felt...alive. Glad he was alive. Glad Annabeth was alive. Glad his remaining friends and family were alive. That was it. Like it finally sunk into his seaweed infested skull. The fact that no matter what he did, he couldn't escape prophecies or fate or any of the shit gods liked to throw at demigods (especially ones named Percy Jackson).
The cold realization hadn't come a second too soon, and it didn't offer a shred of relief about the future. This time, there was no victory party. At least not one Percy could make it to.
He saw the sky colorfully erupt like a sunset bursting through stormy clouds at the wrong time of day. He saw his friends of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, staring up in wonder, awe, terror, and pain. Percy had learned very early that the reward of winning a battle didn't really fully sink in until much later. He saw Frank, tall and mighty, growth spurt and all, standing with his bow as he looked in the direction of everyone else. His face was grim but determined. Reyna was not to far away, her regal features glinting in the light like a Roman statue made of gold. Hazel, mounted on her horse Arion, Spatha in hand, a look of sadness passing over her that Percy couldn't quite comprehend at the moment.
He saw Connor and Travis Stoll. Austin. Dakota. Clarisse La Rue. Chiron. He even spotted Nico Di Angelo and Will Solace, Nico possessing the same sadness Hazel conveyed, Will looking uncharacteristically vacant. He had a hand on Nico's shoulder, as if to steady himself from vertigo. Unsure if the Child of Hades realized that fact or not, it still surprised Percy the hand hadn't been shoved away yet.
But none of it mattered anymore when his eyes fell to Annabeth. She turned to him with a glowing face of dirt and grim and blood, eyes a swimming grey of calculations and knowledge. A cut ran down her cheek. Her leg was still messed up pretty bad from Greece. At that moment, seeing her now, he couldn't help but be reminded how beautiful she was. The giant war was over. Gaea was defeated. As Annabeth's eyes sparkled, he found himself on the verge of wrapping his arms around her —
Then the world went dark.
Percy's eyes cracked open and he saw nothing.
For a quick second, he wondered if he was dead. Had the bursting flames in the sky been a bad thing? Had they lost? Did Gaea snap a finger and dissolve everyone on earth? Was he now a blind soul drifting aimlessly in the Fields of Asphodel?
The thought rush quickly subsided like a calming wave as he realized he had fingers to bend. Surely souls couldn't feel their fingers, much less bend then. Not only that, but he felt a cool metal surface under his palm.
It didn't take Percy long to realize his hands were tied in tight restraints. Ankles, wrists, arms, chest. Across his eyes was a binding (itchy) cloth, which irritated the bridge of his nose. He struggled against the binds with no luck. Kicking with his legs as they barely budged, flexing his biceps in concentration. It was no use.
Giving up for the moment, Percy realized just how horrible he body was weak and cold, not as drained as he had been after him and Jason summoned that hurricane, but drained enough. His brain felt like it'd been slapped around with a sledge hammer a couple times and submerged into anti-Poseidon ice water. Mouth full of cotton, thoughts groggy. Someone must've grabbed him by the hand, spun him around until he retched his guts out, and then kept spinning him.
In an attempt to get some answers, he pulled his mind back to the last minute he recalled. It was no use. The only thing he saw was Annabeth's face and then...well, that was it.
A cold feeling trickled into his veins, something that turned to liquid fire running through his blood. Hera. Dammit, if this was Hera again. He remembered waking up after being asleep for months in the Wolf House. Alone with no memory but the name of his girlfriend. He remembered his quest to Alaska with Hazel and Frank, regaining his memories piece by piece. All the time he'd missed with Annabeth and his mother… It was one of the worst things an immortal had ever put him through. For that he could never forgive anyone.
The thought of her doing it again, well he didn't put it past her. Luckily his memories still seemed to be intact, but he couldn't help the bubbling rage in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't spoken until that moment, out of fear he would be alerting a possibly dangerous captor of his presence, but Percy found himself blindly growling, "Hera, if this is your doing, I swear to the gods-"
"Percy?" He registered the voice next to him immediately. Annabeth. Annabeth was here. A couple of his senses seemed to reconnect, anger defusing.
"Annabeth." Percy spoke. It felt good to say her name. The binds around his wrist and ankles suddenly didn't seem so binding anymore. "Are you okay?" It was the first question that rushed out of his mouth. His head had turned in the direction he first heard her voice, which was to his left a couple feet away.
"Yes, yes, Hades yes." Her voice seemed to cry out in relief, "I've been awake for almost twenty minutes now. I couldn't get out of this chair. I thought I was alone. I thought I-" Her words fumbled, cracking. She sounded scared. It was an emotion Annabeth rarely revealed to anyone. She was a daughter of Athena, after all.
Percy felt his heart choke itself. "It's alright," He promised, trying to keep his voice sound as steady and sure as possible, even if he was freaking out a bit himself. "I'm here. We're alive." It was not an everything's going to be okay approach. If you were a demigod, that phrase kind of took a dump on you every day. Everything wasn't going to be okay. They were bound to chairs and blindfolded. But Annabeth was here. That's all that mattered.
Annabeth didn't respond, and Percy couldn't see the look on her face, but he hoped he had done a good job of calming her nerves. "Where are we?"
There was a sound of moving fabric, which subsided as Annabeth spoke a second later, "I don't...I don't know." She took a deep breath, words steadier, "I've been trying to listen, but I can't hear anything that wouldn't point to some sort of small, sound proof room. I also didn't want to alert any sort of...thing…" There was a slight distaste in her tone, mostly from being in the dark about their situation. (Both figuratively and literally.) "Of course until you were seaweed brained enough to open your mouth." Even though Annabeth phrased the sentence as if she was telling him off for blowing their consciousness, she didn't seem upset to know he was alive.
"I feel like I've been hit with a rock." Percy admitted.
He could almost hear Annabeth's cringe next to him, "Yeah, there's that too. My brain feels...fuzzy. I'm not sure if this is a god or goddesses' doing. I don't want to say we were drugged…" She let that hang in the air.
For a moment they were silent, both listening intently for any sound that might indicate a captor. Still, they heard nothing. "Maybe," Percy paused for a moment to regain his train of thought, "Maybe this was the Hunters of Artemis? Maybe Thalia is here?" It was a futile attempt for hope. Not that it wasn't nice to imagine the best possible outcome.
Annabeth didn't sound like she wanted to shoot his idea down too early, but replied skeptically, "I don't think so, Percy. Thalia wouldn't do this. Even if it was the hunters, they'd have someone on guard in the room near by to immediately know we were awake. They probably wouldn't blindfold us, either." She paused, "The Amazons, possibly...but what's the purpose of a blindfold when you have seen their headquarters? And from what you've told me, I'd always get council to say my piece." She then followed with a wistful tone, "But yeah. Maybe."
Frowning, Percy attempted to tug at his ropes again with no more luck than he had before. He tried to move the chair, but it was stuck to the ground somehow. "Today, the bright sky light." He brought himself backk to thr second before he'd blacked out, "I thought we won."
"So did I." Annabeth responded, "Gods, how does this shit keep happening?" He heard her make her own failed attempt at ripping the binds off.
Percy laughed, which felt weird in his throat for a second, and probably even weirder to any captor who was attempting to scare them. "It was in the contract once we started dating, Wise Girl. Immortals now have official rights to use you and your friends in any Percy Jackson related schemes."
There was something muffled, which Percy hoped was a smile. He could imagine the lines passing her face now as she shook her head, eyes brightening up a bit and dimples forming. He loved Annabeth's smile.
"Shut up and let me think." She ordered, to which Percy felt a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, but didn't say anything more.
If Annabeth had truly needed a minute of silence to develop a plan, she didn't get it. A couple seconds later a loud sliding sound echoed through the room. Percy felt his breath go hollow, as both him and Annabeth refrained from saying anything. Following was a creaking sort of whine, like a door being opened. A burst of cold wind hit the room, as if it'd been pushing up against the door, waiting for someone to let it inside. Percy shivered, suddenly wishing he had something more than his Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and jeans.
In the same motion and sound, the door was slid shut, and the room's temperature warmed only slightly. There was a shuffling, which stopped for a long moment as if someone was examining them. Neither Percy or Annabeth dared make a sound. The worn soles of sneakers were then dragged, a sound that came from somewhere in front of Percy. Shuffle, slide, squeak. A chair was pulled across the floor.
Percy's body was as still at it had ever been, and that was saying something coming from an ADHD diagnosed demigod. His mouth felt dry, fingers clenching the metal below them. There wasn't much he could do to defend himself strapped to a chair. He couldn't even check if Riptide was still in his pocket. But, whatever happened, he kept his body alert and on edge. He had to be prepared for a fight.
There was a scratching fabric sound, as if someone was messing with their jeans. He'd heard this exact noise more than a couple times since knowing Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Camp Half-Blood's Oracle. She had a habit of doodling all over her pants. A thread of questioning crossed his mind; but this couldn't be Rachel. Any friend of Percy's would never do this to him.
Besides, whoever had walked in possessed a certain smell and aura Percy couldn't quit place. It brought him back to the first night he'd found out he was a demigod, with his mom in their cabin on the beach. The air had been heavy with humidity and electricity; and his mother had smelled like taffy. It was almost pleasant; but the memory stretched to an unpleasant one of his mother getting taken by the Minotaur. A calm before the storm.
Suddenly, there was a tugging sensation around the blindfold over his eyes. Percy's ears whistled lightly, as if something was rushing passed, and the fabric dropped to his neck.
A bright light hit his pupil, forcing Percy to squint. His vision was spotty and filled with black dots, blurring his surroundings into weird shades of pink and orange. He blinked rapidly, attempting to regain a bit of sight.
Percy could vaguely make out dark walls and a metal floor. In front of where he was tied sat (as Percy had suspected) a metal chair, which had been dragged around the table behind it. Other than that the room was empty, besides himself, Annabeth, and the blurry figure leaning idly on the chair's back. His head swiveled to the side as his vision focused, spotting Annabeth who was tied to the chair directly next to him. Her blonde hair was a mess, looking as worn as a stretched out rubber band. Not to mention the grime and dried blood that was still attached to her skin from the Giant War. Her blindfold hung around her neck, as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and opened them again.
"Sorry about the lighting." Spoke the melodic, yet underlyingly amused, voice of a teenage boy, "We didn't have much time to call up the electrician."
Though as his words sunk in, the room had dimmed considerably bringing Percy's vision back to something close to normal. His sea green eyes had redirected themselves to the front of the room, where Annabeth was already staring.
With two arms crossed over the top of a metal chair stood a boy who had to be about fifteen years old. He was a healthy-ish sort of skinny, with no real muscle that could be seen, but it was more likely hidden by his boyish figure. His skin was a light shade of brown, with a glowy sort of texture to it. His hair, a light brown only slightly darker than his skin, was short, choppily kicked up to avoid obstructing his face, and stuck out around his ears. His jaw was thin, nose narrow and sharp. The resemblance the boy struck in Percy's mind was small, and sat at the back of his head waiting to be recalled.
But the most shocking thing about his appearance happened to be his eyes. Electric blue, staring at you in an impending storm sort of way. Despite the trouble maker vibes he put off, his eyes said the opposite. As if he'd just as easily kick the chair in front of him in the back of the English classroom for an hour, as he would send a kid to the Principal's office for being in the hallways without a pass.
"Who are you?" Annabeth asked, grey eyes narrowed considerably in distrust. She looked fierce and ready for an attack, at the same time calculating any sort of advantage the boy would have over either of them, and how they could defend themselves if the time came. With his arms stuck in place Percy doubted they'd have much fighting ability anyways.
The boy didn't answer automatically, as if trying to remember what someone had told him about answering questions from strangers. Sooner rather than later, he responded, "Maybe we should start with you guys. Who are you?"
The question surprised Percy. He'd gotten kind of used to being recognized. Not that it was ever a warm homecoming when a monster spat Percy Jackson and lunged at him for the kill. But this kid didn't look like any sort of monster. He put off a more familiar vibe. A demigod vibe.
Despite his train of thought, Percy felt inclined to answer the question honestly. More inclined than he should've been. As the words of the boy passed over him, his mind seemed to ease a bit, steadying itself. He trusted this guy. He opened his mouth to speak, maybe tell the kid his whole journey, his mom, figuring out he was a demigod, Camp Half-Blood, Grover, Luke, Thalia… Annabeth spoke before he could begin.
"Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena." She said quickly, "We go to a camp for demigods called Camp Half-Blood. My dad's name is Fredrick. Him, my step-mom, and my step-brothers live in San Francisco. They're twins." Annabeth's words caught in her throat when she opened her mouth to say more, eyes dawning a confused look, wondering why she had given this stranger all that information.
The boy didn't seem to be paying much attention anymore. His eyebrows had furrowed after the first line Annabeth spoke, eyes a shifting breeze of thought. In his left ear a piece of gold sparkled, and Percy realized it was a small cartilage piercing shaped like a lightning bolt. "That's impossible." He said finally, looking at the two of them with an accusatory sort of distrust, "You're not telling the truth."
Percy blinked again, but this time it wasn't to clear his vision of black spots. "Hey man, a lot of people live in San Francisco."
"No." The boy interrupted, turning so his gaze was fixed on Annabeth. "Your name, you can't be…" He looked conflicted, "I don't… How did you get here?"
This question caused the same sort of sensation Percy had experienced from the first, yet it was more jumbled. Still Percy felt an inclination to answer, and this time he managed to get the words out, "We don't know. A second ago we defeated Gaea, then the next second everything was black."
The boy's eyes shot open in surprised, "Defeated Gaea?" The words didn't seem to fit well in his mouth, and they certainly didn't sit right in Percy's stomach. The way he spoke was almost...harrowing. As if those two phrases never belonged in the same sentence.
Annabeth had caught onto something. She had that look on her face. The one where her eyes brightened a bit in an I know something way. It usually occurred when she had successfully figured out an action plan, or discovered a power an enemy had over them. Her voice was hoarse from lack of water when she spoke, "You're a demigod, right? Son of Aphrodite?"
Mouth twitching a bit at her words, the boy licked his lips nervously. Percy hadn't noticed until now that he no longer leaned on the chair, fingers closing around the hilt of a sword that hung from his belt. This made Percy somewhat nervous himself. He wished he could reach for Riptide. Even closing his fingers around the pen tended to bring some comfort. "Legacy." The boy replied.
Annabeth's eyes sparkled with knowledge, "You've been charm speaking us. I can tell. My friend has that ability." She seemed to notice the sword as well, and quickly averted her eyes up to the boy's again, "What's your name?"
God bless the daughter of Athena. She knew how to turn any conversation. Not that twitchy didn't seem reluctant to respond. He glances at the metal door to his left, looking as if he expecting someone to burst in. In this time Percy examined his clothes more carefully. They were old, dirty, and washed out. It looked as if they had been worn once, he'd rolled in the mud, then someone hand washed them in salt water and left them in the snow to dry. After that he put them on again, and this went on for a year.
His black t-shirt had a logo on it which had previously been faded. Only one silver letter could be made out on the right center, and that was a capital "E". It was caught under the belt where he hung his sword on the peeling leather. His light jeans had signs of previous stains, worst appearing on the knees which had a few small moth made holes in them as well. Not to mention he was an inch too tall, the scraggly edge of the jean's bottoms revealing his ankles. His shoes were nothing special, and definitely not better looking than the rest of his clothing. Percy suddenly felt almost bad for the kid. He looked...well, homeless. Though he quickly reminded himself where him and Annabeth were, and who was tied to the chair in this situation. The feeling didn't last.
"Tristan." The boy finally answered. He still gripped the sword tightly, but he seemed to be reminding himself that neither Annabeth or Percy had any means of escape.
"Well, I was telling the truth." Annabeth replied, looking pleased that he had responded but not showing that too outwardly. "My name is Annabeth, and that is Percy. We don't know how we got here. We were battling Gaea, and then-"
"-Lights out." Percy finished for her.
Annabeth glanced his way and nodded, "Yeah."
Tristan didn't look like he knew what to say. The silence was uncomfortable. Percy desperately just wanted to get out of the chair he'd been strapped to. "You said you were battling Gaea? You killed her? When?"
"I don't know." Annabeth admitted, "I don't know how long we've been out. I don't know...Gods, I don't know so many things. Where did you find us? Why tie us up?"
He was on the verge of answering when a loud pounding sound banged against the door. Tristan gave them both a look, before rushing over and sliding open a slit in order to see who was there. Percy turned to Annabeth, taking advantage of the distraction. What do we do? He asked with his eyes. They'd known each other for so long it was easy to pass things over with a look.
Annabeth shook her head in an, I need more time. Sort of way. Percy hoped he had a longer moment to distract Tristan while Annabeth worked on their escape route.
It didn't look like they would. Tristan had pulled the door's handle to the side, about to pull it open.
"Wait," Annabeth urged, causing Tristan to look back at them. Though he showed no sign of staying around, "Just don't go anywhere." He told them. It sounded like a joke. With that he pulled the door open. Another gust of cold wind caused Percy to squint as he threw his head to one side. He managed to make out snow on the other side of the door, before it was pulled shut.
There was a muffled conversation, including the sound of shoes crunching on ice. No way him or Annabeth could make out what was being said, but it was something urgent. The speed of their words gave that away.
In no time the door was pushed open once again, a cold shiver going down Percy's spin. Okay, now he really wished he had a jacket. Tristan was revealed once more, eyes almost frantic. He slammed the door shut, rushing over to Percy, and with a pocket knife started on the bonds around his ankles.
"What's going on?" Annabeth asked, catching onto the panicked mood.
Tristan cursed under his breath in what Percy recognized as Ancient Greek, successfully tying loose Percy's left ankle. He rolled it as Tristan began on the right one, feeling good to have a free leg. "There isn't time. You guys just have to trust us."
"Trust you?" Percy questioned before Annabeth could stop him. He debated how hard a kick he could get once his knees were untied. "You tied us up in a room with blindfolds. How are we supposed to trust you?"
He stopped his work, looking Percy directly in his eyes with a face of steel seriousness. His gaze worked well with the look. "Cause if you don't, we'll have to leave you here. And you'll die."
A/N: I'm sure most of you have already figured who Tristan is related to and named after. If not then allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised. Comment & follow.
See ya.
